A black bear holds onto the rock
too scared to let go.
Boulder and bear swim as one
inching along to that place like a den
where both can hide
far away as Lewiston.

That night in the bear cabin
when I count bears
they merge in and out
of the four log walls

Mini-bears tumble in the air
not flying, suspended
I count two hundred eight
biting their paws, each other
giggling in growly voices

One bear in a green tux lingers
the others faded.

Is this a teddy bear
on my rustic pillow?
too cute for the tourist
but not for me.

When he opens his paws for a hug,
I squeeze his fur
to take away my fear of nightfall.